“I do not advise you to take part in the fighting,” he said. “But if you find it necessary to defend yourself, you’ll find guns in plenty in the dining-hall closet, with cartridges in one of the drawers.”
In less than ten minutes the company of soldiers, fifty-six strong, were on their way, leaving the convent as silently as shadows. The moment the last of them had taken to the passage-way, the entrance was closed and bolted, and I found myself left behind with the women and children and the four guards, none of whom could speak a word of English.
After firing the third shot the Spaniards paused, probably to hold a council of war. To divert suspicion from the movements of Captain Guerez and his men, the four guards and myself passed out in plain sight of them several times. Of course we did not remain long, nor did we show ourselves in the same place twice. Our appearance called forth half a dozen shots from as many muskets, but we were too far off for these to have any effect. One bullet did hit near where a guard had shown himself, but its force was spent and it did no damage.
Nearly half an hour had passed, when suddenly we heard a yell and a wild shouting, and all of the Spaniards dashed into view, running hither and thither as though panic-stricken. Captain Guerez had surprised them completely, and they thought it was a re-enforcement for the old convent and not the soldiers from that place themselves. A hundred shots rang out, and, using a field-glass, I saw that the Spaniards were completely demoralized. They formed into a hollow square once, but this was speedily broken up, and then off they rode and ran, helter-skelter, down the bluff and across the river, some fording and some swimming, for their very lives.
The engagement had lasted less than quarter of an hour when some of the Cubans came riding toward the convent gates, bringing with them several wounded men—some of their own party—and three of the Spaniards who had been captured.
Captain Guerez had, in the meantime, followed the Spanish leader across the stream. The pursuit was kept up for nearly half an hour, at the end of which time the Spaniards were driven so far off it was likely they would not dare to return for a long while, if at all.
When Alano’s father came back it was found he had received a sword thrust through the fleshy part of the leg. The wound was not a dangerous one, but it was painful, and his wife and daughters did all they could to ease his sufferings.
“I am sorry for your sake, Mark, that I am wounded,” he remarked, as he rested upon a cot. “I will have to keep quiet for a few days, and thus our quest after your father will have to be delayed.”
“You wouldn’t dare to leave here just yet anyway, would you?” I asked, much disappointed, yet feeling that it was no more than I could expect.